


On heroes and tombs

by KeyKnows



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Animal Death, Backstory, Blood and Injury, Canon Relationships, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Family, Gen, Hunting, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyKnows/pseuds/KeyKnows
Summary: “Spoken…like a true hero” Artorius says, and he doesn’t know if he does so in acknowledgment or in disdain.[Arthur, Velvet and Artorius through the years.]





	On heroes and tombs

_“I can’t rest alone. For then I face an abyss, the abyss of my lucidity. For I see too much_.”

— Anaïs Nin.

 

She’s still little when he enters to their lives; she’s a smart, impetuous little girl that doesn’t mind playing in the dirt with her little brother and that takes care of him with sweet dutifulness; she helps Celica with housework too, since Celica is usually out helping the other town women with the harvest or the cattle.

It’s too much for someone so young, Arthur thinks, but Celica has teach her to be strong and she tries. She even cooks for him like she cooks for her brother when Celica isn’t home. 

He asks her why, one day, a few days after start staying with them.

“Because you’re Celica’s friend,” Velvet says with a voice a little older than her, but just a little “and I’m in charge of the cooking today.”

She’s too young, he thinks, but he was young too when he started learning how to live by himself and she seems more capable of housework than he has ever been, so he doesn’t stop her. He offers his help instead and she seems to like being treat like an adult, she smiles, bright and cheerful and gives an enthusiastic ‘yes!’

While they work in the kitchen little Laphicet is drawing, sat over some books on a chair so he can reach the table surface without problems.

They don’t notice when Celica returns, too focused on their work. She smiles fondly to them when they finally turn and then moves over to taste their cooking. She says it’s delicious and, while Velvet goes put the table, she turns to him and smiles:

“Thank you.” Celica whispers, watching Velvet trying to get Laphicet off the table “I always feel bad for leaving her alone.”

“You’ve done a fine job rising her.” He says, a little too lost on her smile.

“Not at all.” She laughs, a slight blush at his obvious gaze.   

* * *

Laphicet is constantly sick. He gets a fever every two weeks or so and has to stay in bed for at least a day for it to go down.

He knows what it is. It’s an almost exact description of the twelve year sickness he has read about. He doesn’t say anything, of course, the knowledge would only hurt them and since it has no cure, telling them would change nothing. 

He asks Celica how does she treat his fevers and she says she uses an old family remedy her mother passed onto her. She gives her rosemary tea with a bit of verbena; it doesn’t taste good and it doesn’t help him much, she tells him, but it’s what they can manage, the medicine is too expensive and they barely get by with the work Celica does in town.

Arthur asks her how one gets on doing money in this town. Celica says hunting, since most of the people here are farmers almost no one knows how to effectively hunt.

He knows how to hunt, he says, and he offers to do it for them so they can buy Laphicet medicine. It will not cure him, but it will probably help more than the tea.

Celica says he doesn’t have to, but how could he not when they have open their house to him, have help him to get back on his feet? It’s nothing, he assures her. He wants to help.

She thanks him with a shaky voice, the gravity of her hardships almost chocking her for a moment. But she composes herself quickly and smiles.

She always smiles.

* * *

His first hunting trip at the Tranquil Woods comes out fine, and he gets back home with a big prickleboar. He gets behind the house to hang it up side down and drain the blood.

Velvet watches him. She seems shocked at the sight of the corpse slowly bleeding on the grass, her face a little green, like she’s gonna throw up. She doesn’t, not yet at least, and instead gets close in small steps and asks him what he’s doing.

Arthur explains that they need to get rid of the blood before doing anything else, and that after that’s done, he’s gonna skin it to get leather, and cut the edible parts to sell it.

She frowns and asks him why he’s gonna sell it if they could eat it.

“It’s a lot but Celica told me how to use salt to keep the meat good for a long time.” She explains, the voice of a child.

He tells her the truth. It’s for Laphicet’s medicine.

She makes a pause then, the blood still leaking from the corpse and she looks like she’s having an epiphany, watching it soak the soil.

“Did you kill it?” She asks, her voice firm.

“Yes.”

“Was it hard?” Her voice older.

He can see where she’s going with this.

“Not specially, but that’s because I’ve been hunting for a long time and I had a very good teacher.”

“Can I learn too?” She questions, tearing her gaze from the corpse and looking up at him, serious, almost grave and he has the fleeting thought that a child her age shouldn’t look like that “Can you teach me?”    

Probably. Yes. He can. But he isn’t so sure he should. She’s barely six and even if she hasn’t thrown up yet she still looks green. But he thinks of himself, trailing behind Claudin in the woods, not much older than her, driven by need.

She needs this too, he thinks, if not for herself for Laphicet.

“I’ll tell you this,” he says after a moment “help me skin it and cut it, if you can do that, I’ll teach you.”

She nods energetically and waits patiently at his side for the corpse to completely bleed out. One that’s done, he takes the prickleboar down and lays it on a wooden table and tells her, her job is mostly to observe and pass him the tools he’s gonna use. She nods again, her bushy eyebrows pulled in a frown of concentration; she would look adorable if it wasn’t for her sudden severity.

He gets to work then. It’s a messy task, despite the previous bleeding, and Velvet gets more and more green with every passing moment and, eventually, she gets away from the table and throws up in the grass, making the whole thing a little more disgusting between her vomit and the blood.

He expects her to quit then, to go back to the house, but after composing herself with deep, steady breaths and a few spits on the ground, she gets back to his side, and asks him to explain what he’s doing.

She’s got the nerve, at least, if not the stomach.

* * *

To hunt is a delicate, intricate art, he explains to her while they make their way to the Tranquil Woods.

Celica wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of her little sister becoming a huntress, but Arthur assured her he would protect Velvet and Velvet was adamant about learning, so they could buy Laphicet his medicine.

The mention of the youngest at the household got Celica at the verge of tears. She waited for Velvet to go entertain herself before turning to him and telling him how much she would like for things to be different. That her little sister didn’t have to worry about money or being _useful_ in the house, that she could just be a kid and concentrate on playing and growing up happy.

He didn’t really have comforting words to offer her, because this was their reality and they had to deal with it, matter not how bitter it was. But serving as an attentive ear was enough for Celica to, eventually, dry her tears and smile her beautiful smile and thank him.

“Take care of Velvet in the woods, ok?” Were her final words for that conversation.

“I promise.”

They’re now deep into said woods, and Arthur explains to Velvet in hushed tones that hunting has more to do with being patient and clever than being strong. He would like her to train with a sword since that’s what he knows how to use best and can teach her properly, but in Aball there was no way to get a sword appropriate for her height, so he ended up giving her a slingshot to protect herself if necessary. She had scoffed, but he explained to her how the slingshot was a weapon and not a toy, like most believed.

“How long are we gonna wait?” She asks after they have been hunched behind a bush for half an hour.

“It depends,” he answers “you have to choose a spot where is likely for the animal you’re hunting to show up, and wait. Sometimes it will be quickly or it may take hours. There are days in which you won’t find any.”  

His method of hunting relays mostly on tracking, actually, but he would like for Velvet to build patience before teaching her how to track or set traps. They’re going at the basics, here.

She removes constantly on her spot, restless, but doesn’t ask him again for the time or complains about the dullness of the task. She’s set on learning this, driven by her wish to see her brother well and to help her sister at home. She’s strong and understanding for a child her age.

After what seems an eternity for her, but were actually just ten more minutes, a prickleboar appears in the clearing. If it were just him, Arthur would now jump from his hiding spot and attack the creature, since his mastery with the sword allows him that kind recklessness; besides prickleboars are relatively easy to hunt since it’s more likely that they respond an attack instead of turning tail and run.

However he’s not alone at the moment, and Velvet needs to learn. He speaks to her in the quietest voice he can manage and tells her the plan.

* * *

Velvet is teary eyed at the sight of the dying prickleboar. It fights fervently for its live, even when it’s fatally wounded by his sword, and lets out the most terrible shrieks while doing so.

She starts crying for real when it finally dies with a high pitched screech, like it’s cursing them for taking its live.

For a moment, Arthur thinks that she’s not meant for the task.

“Why are you crying?” He asks.

She takes a moment to control her own whines.

“It…it was scared and in pain and…and…did we do something bad?” She questions with utter worry on her face, dramatically highlighted by her puffy eyes, red cheeks and the trail of her tears.

“No.” He says patiently. It’s probably the first time she has seen something die so it’s normal to have these preoccupations “We hunt to eat, to dress or to get money, the prickleboar suffers, of course, but we are not doing this out of malice, we are doing it because we need to. We must do it to survive.”

“But…isn’t it bad to kill?” she says with a small voice.

And well, that’s one hell of a question, but he dives into a reasonable explanation without problems.

“To kill an animal for the sake of killing it,” he starts saying “it’s certainly a bad thing; to kill an animal in order to cover your needs, isn’t bad at all. We gave the prickleboar the quickest dead we could, so it wouldn’t suffer unnecessarily; as long as you respect the life of the animal you’re killing and you do it because you need to, you’re not doing something bad.”

The tears have stop running and she cleans her face with the back of her hand, silently watching the dead prickleboar and contemplating his words.

“It’s…” Velvet says after a moment “It’s still too sad.”

She starts crying again while they take it home, but Arthur doesn’t say anything more and lets her take it all out.

* * *

One day, Celica falls sick. According to the town’s doctor she’s gotten a nasty case of the flu; in his words it wouldn’t have gotten bad enough to bedridden her if she had taken better care of herself, and she’s also malnourished, he noticed.

The doctor is telling this to Arthur while Velvet stays at her sister’s side and changes the wet clothe on Celica’s forehead. It’s already late at night, so Laphicet is sleeping soundly in his room oblivious to the tension that fills the house.

Arthur asks him what they can do to make her healthy again.

“Unfortunately,” the doctor says with a grave sigh “the only thing that could put her back on her feet at this point is a medicine that I don’t have at the moment. The next delivery should be in month but…well, it’s hard to say if she’ll last that long.”

The hard, loud sound of a wood crashing against wood comes from Celica’s bedroom; Arthur turns to look and sees Velvet has drop the basin in which she was wetting the clothe. She picks it up quickly and runs for the door, heading out to get fresh water from the well.

She probably listened.

“Is…do you think they’ll have it in Taliesin?” Arthur asks, his voice breaking a little.

“Well, it’s a possibility but I can’t tell for sure.”

“I see. Thank you doctor, and excuse us for make you come so late at night.”

“It’s no bother at all.”

The doctor refuses to take any money from him then, saying he didn’t do a lot, and takes his leaving. Arthur doesn’t like it, since it seems like _pity_ and he doesn’t want there to be any reason someone could feel pity for them.       

Velvet enters after the doctor leaves, carrying the water with firm, heavy steps and quickly goes again to Celica’s side.

He has to take a deep and silent breath before going after her, trying to make sure that his voice will not falter when he talks to her.

“Velvet,” he calls quietly and tries to don’t look at Celica sickly blushed face. “Velvet.” He says again, seeing she doesn’t answer.

Contrary to him, Velvet cannot tear her gaze away from her sister’s face; her eyes are red and wet, tears haven’t fallen yet, and her hands are hanging to the basin in them for dear life.

“Velvet.” He tries once more.

“Is…” Velvet’s says, her voice so very small and high, he hasn’t’ hear her like this before “…is Celica going to die?”

The concept of death is very clear for Velvet, more so than in most children her age. She knows what it means, she knows that is irreversible and she knows it hurts for the one that stays. She has already lost her parents and her brother is constantly sick, always fighting for his life.

She’s too young, and too sweet and too underserving for any of this to happen to her.

“Maybe,” Arthur says, because he has never been one to lie, or to sugarcoat truths and lying to her wouldn’t really help her. And she’s strong, Celica has make sure of that.

Velvet makes a sharp intake of air, her hands shake and silent, impotent tears fall down her cheeks on stream.

“Velvet,” he says again kneeling at her side. He takes the basin from her hands, puts it aside and then wraps his hands around hers. “Velvet, look at me.”

She rises her head slowly and looks at him with a broken expression, her golden eyes shining with anguish.

“Celica…Celica is very sick,” he starts saying, hardening the hold on her hands to give strength to both of them “but we can still do something about it. I’m going to Taliesin, to see if someone there has the medicine she needs.”

“And…and if they don’t have it? What, what are we gonna do— Celica, she…she’s gonna—”

“Velvet, calm down.” He interrupts her firmly “We must do what we can still do. Don’t give up just yet. Do not despair, no matter what.”

He’s not sure if what reassures her are his words or his presence, but she looks into his eyes and nods and squeezes back into his hold. She doesn’t stop crying, but she’s calmer now.

She says that she will make him something to eat on his way to Taliesin and he thanks her with a smile.

After she finally goes to sleep for the night, he crumbles crying besides Celica’s bed, holds her hand and begs her to stay at their side.

* * *

It’s been a few months since Celica was sick. She’s fine now, they had the medicine in Taliesin, he made the four days trip in two and Velvet held the fort while he was away. At the end, everything turned out all right and their souls could rest.

Celica apologized for worrying them, but Arthur said he would forgive her if she started eating better and tell them if she wasn’t feeling well. 

Now they’re back at their usual routine, once again in the woods hunting. This time he’s teaching Velvet how to hunt with traps. They came a few days back to set them, and now they came to see if they had any luck.

Of the three traps they set, one was empty and untouched, and one told the story of animal trapped and another coming to eat it.

The third one is different, however. They caught a fox and the animal is hanging upside down from one of its rear legs, it’s unmoving and appears dead.

Velvet frowns and asks him what they will do with it. Arthur explains that fox meat, while edible, it’s a little too tough for human teeth; they will make a lot more selling its skin since some use it as a fashion item.

She approaches the animal then, to examine it. She seems more comfortable with the corpses when she isn’t the one killing them, he has noticed. She doesn’t handle well other’s suffering.

When she’s a few steps from the fox, it suddenly moves violently and growls at her, balancing precariously in her direction. She screams and falls on her back, startled. He goes to her side in an instant and slices the neck of the fox with his sword, spilling blood on the soil but killing it quickly.

“Never let your guard down,” he says to her while she gets up “not even when victorious.”

“Right,” she says and they start getting the fox down.

While they’re going back to the town after setting more traps, Velvet asks him about what he said earlier.

“You always say things like that,” she explains “and you always say them the same way.”

“They are…principles, if you may,” he answers her “my teacher taught them to me when I was learning to use the sword. They’re principles for fighting, but they apply to all aspects of life, hunting include.”

“Oh,” she hums with contemplation, looking at the leaf covered ground while she walks.

She does that a lot, he has observe, walk while looking at her feet. It probably doesn’t matter much at the village but here in the forest is a dangerous habit; even if he’s here and will protect her she must learn to be attentive of her environment, especially if she will continue hunting in the future. And at some point she’s gonna do it alone.

They get to town and then to their house, walking in easy silence. Since Celica was sick Velvet has been more adamant about making herself useful; even at the days Celica has been early at home, Velvet insists on doing dinner   and taking care of Laphicet so her sister can rest properly, like she’s scared Celica will fall ill again and this time she won’t make it.

In light of that, the act of skinning an animal still makes her throw up, but she forces herself to be at his side while he does so and, unexpectedly, asks him to let her do it.

He allows her, because he understands a little too much the sentiment of wanting to do more.

* * *

It breaks her heart, Celica tells him, but doesn’t know what to do to reassure her sister that nothing bad is going to happen to her because not even Celica herself is sure.

“I want to tell her…” Celica says, doing the laundry at the small stream that runs a few meters behind the house and, he helps her carry the clothes back to their yard, “I want to tell her that I’m going to be alright, that her big sister won’t leave her but…”

Celica’s gaze gets lost then, far away into the everlasting brown and yellow of the woods, but her hands never once stop her work of scrubbing the clothes clean.

“But that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?” She finally says “I can’t tell for sure that nothing will happen to me, that I will always be there for her and I…” she pauses, scrubbing with more energy “I want her to be strong, but I wish she wouldn’t have to be, you know?”

She looks at him, her big, golden eyes darkened by the shadow of tears she doesn’t let fall.

And Arthur has never been good with emotions, his or someone else’s, but he feels that he desperately needs to take her pain away. He kneels beside her and not knowing what do but whishing fervently to _do_ something, takes her hands between his, pretty much in the same fashion he took Velvet’s days and days ago.

“Celica,” he calls, his voice strained “we can’t tell for sure what the future holds but…but I’ll protect you, with all my might, so you can protect her. You don’t need to worry, Celica, I’ll…I’ll take care of you, of all of you.”

“Oh, Arthur…” And her tears fall then, bright and pristine, full of gratitude and love.

And they kiss.   

* * *

Marriage was never on his plans; but neither was running away from his duty or settling in nowheresville, and life is always full of surprises, after all.

Aball has no formal religion system, the town has no church to speak of and the nearest thing to a sacred place here is the ancient shrine at the cape, but no one really knows why it’s sacred anymore.

In Loegres, for example, the weeding would’ve been officiated by a priest, and they would’ve have to take four traditional vows, one for each Empyrean. But here such traditions are unknown, lost, irrelevant.

And he thinks he should care more about that; it’s this same lack of faith what has thrown the world in distress, what made him think his quest for peace futile, what made him fail.

But for once in the longest time, Arthur cannot bring himself to think of anything that isn’t his own happiness. So what if the weeding will be officiated by the elders of town instead of a priest? What if they won’t recite the four traditional vows? What if they won’t kneel before an altar to pray their thanks to the Empyreans?

He’s marrying Celica Crowe, and everything else pales in comparison of that solid fact.

Aball is a closed knitted community, so the weeding is an event for all to celebrate and contribute to. Traditionally, one of the elders tell him, both of them would’ve to wait for the ceremony to start in their parents’ house, but Arthur has no family here, so he’s waiting in the elder’s house. She’s an old woman, strong looking for her age, and she speaks to him about the significance of marriage.

She tells him of the joys of it, but also about the responsibilities it carries. She asks him with severity if he’s ready to assume such duties, even more so because he’s an outsider and marrying Celica implies marrying her family and the whole town, in a way.

And he is. He has never been more sure or ready in his life. He wants this, he wants to join his life with Celica’s, whatever that entitles, wherever it takes him. He says so to the old woman, he speaks freely and with conviction of his feelings, he says that he has never really have a home, but that he has found it here with Celica, and that he’s eternally thankful to the her and to the town for taking him in.

He loves Celica, he tells her, with an intensity and surety he didn’t know he was capable of. 

The woman looks at him intently, measuring the veracity of his words with the wisdom years have given her.

Finally she nods with solemnity and tells him:

“You may go to the ceremony now. Celica should join you shortly.”

Arthur nods and does as he’s told, anxious but happy.

When he gets to the small town plaza, he almost doesn’t notice all the arrangements that have been done for the event, too caught up on his own thoughts. An improvised altar made with branches and decorated with flowers of multiple colors lays at the center, and under it a stone basin with wine is guarded by the elder that will lead the ceremony.

The villagers are waiting around the altar, all dressed with their best clothes and filled with an air merriment. They smile at him when they see him come and he can’t help but smile in return.

At this arrival a quite murmurs rises between some of them and he hears a faint “He passed the test, who could tell?” but he doesn’t have the head to worry about it at the moment. Later he would learn that the talk at the elder house was a customary waiting, and that Celica was interrogated too.

Not long after him, Celica comes out of the house of Niko’s family, where she was waiting.

He sees her and thinks she looks beautiful, even more so than usual. Behind her, Velvet and Laphicet come running to take their place among the people, giggling excitedly; Velvet’s dress and Laphicet’s pants are already dirty at the knees and he guesses they were playing while waiting.

He looks at all of them and smiles, thinking that this is the happiest day of his life and then quickly correcting himself because no, this is not the happiest one just the beginning of many more.

* * *

To his view, Velvet isn’t particularly good as a fighter. She can’t keep her head cool, her emotions always get the better of her and in consequence she acts hastily and recklessly.

Still, she’s young and here in Aball she’s bound to face more prickleboars than bandits, so it isn’t really troublesome if she doesn’t become a master swordsman. And also, if anything were to happen, he’s here and he will protect her: he will protect all the members of his new family.

Celica trusts him to do so and that’s why, just like when he started teaching Velvet how to hunt, she wasn’t happy at the idea of her little sister learning to fight. But Velvet was thrilled and the prospect of helping him protect her siblings fueled her with passion and conviction.

So he teaches her, even if her form deviates from the perfect or even the adequate sometimes, he certainly didn’t show her how to kick like that; he teaches her the principals his master told him and she memories every one of them in earnest. She even starts calling them his ‘maxims’ and he laughs at her occurrence.

They don’t go to hunt together that much anymore, however, now that he’s officially part of their family and the village, the town designates tasks to him just like to everyone else and with both him and Celica working, Velvet doesn’t need to worry about the money for Laphicet’s medicine. She can be, for the first time in a long time, a child.

She still helps in the house, of course, and Laphicet is never out of her watchful eye, but now she spends more time playing with him than taking care of him, and she and Niko go out more often and in general, Velvet looks happier.

All of them, in fact, are happier. And this, Arthur thinks, this peaceful, uneventful life is everything and more he ever yearn for.

* * *

He has never feel so much distress in his life. Not since his master’s dead and the simile twists his gut and makes him want to throw up, but he controls the feeling because he’s not on his own.

Velvet and Laphicet depend on him at this moment, is the only thing Celica asked of him. Get them to safety, take care of them, _run_ , she had said as she was leave behind and his heart bleed doing as she wished.

The two children are terrified with the screams of villagers and daemons in the distance, with their sister far away and the ominous red shine of the moon hanging over their heads.

He hides them in a hollow tree, a place in which both of them sometimes come to play, and tells them he will go back for Celica, but Velvet hands reaches for his sleeve:

“I’m so scared…” she says with her small voice “Arthur, please…” but she lets go of him slowly, like she knows he has to go even if the prospect of being left alone frightens her.

She has always been mature for her age.

He smiles at her and thinks it’s a miracle he’s able to do so, if only to ease her well justified worries. He reaches for one of the apples scattered on the ground and tells her that they’re magical, enchanted with her sister’s magic, and that they will give her the strength to survive.

Velvet, that’s has had to grow up too quickly, doesn’t buy it immediately.

“They will?” she whispers.

“Of course they will,” he says with utmost security counting the seconds to go back for Celica “have I ever lied to you?”

She shakes her head no and hugs the apple to her chest. He gives one to Laphicet too, small Laphicet that is pale as ghost, shaking with terror and hasn’t spoken a word. He opens his arms and the kid leaps into a hug, crying over his shirt. But Arthur can’t stay to comfort him.

“It’s scary,” he tells Velvet feeling his own fear for Celica creeping on his back “but don’t give into fear…” he says, maybe more to himself “Don’t despair…no matter what!”

It’s what Claudin used to say to him, when he was child and the world and its misfortunes tortured him; the familiar words fuel Velvet with strength as much as they did him years ago, so she nods and assures him now that they’ll be okay.

He leaves them alone and sprints through the blood dyed forest in earnest, ignoring the daemons on his way.

By the time he makes it to the cape Celica is already cornered. She tells him to go, to take the children and run, but he can’t do that. She’s his whole world, she’s the reason he didn’t crumble, she’s the reason he’s still alive: she’s the reason why he enjoys being alive.

And she carries their child, the prove of their love.

So he dives into the danger and fights with all his might, but is not enough and Celica saves him once more, pushing him out of harm’s way and falling to the shrine.

He looks with horror as she vanishes in the darkness, her terrified face the last memory he’ll have of her. He screams her name so hard he tears his throat and she screams his, her voice ringing in his ears.

He feels the foundations of the world crumbling under his knees; he feels reality deconstruct itself, now that Celica isn’t there to hold it all together. He feels his heart break and his soul leave his body.

For a moment he’s convinced he’s dead.

It’s the same, terrible nightmare he lived with his master all over again. Claudin died protecting him. Celica died protecting him.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

Or maybe it is: From the depths of the shrine emerges a dragon of light and he knows what it is, what it means.

It must be fate, he thinks, it must be destiny telling him that this is what he’s here for. This is his reason for being in this world: to save it with the power of an ancient god.

He was meant for greater things, his master always said, and fate has come to remind him of it.

Celica’s dead must be punishment for forgetting so.

* * *

Sometimes, he can’t look at her. In one hand she looks too much like Celica: the same long, raven hair; the big, golden eyes; the white, milky skin. In the other she’s strikingly different from Celica: hot impulsiveness instead of calm contemplation; easy tears instead of composed emotions; filial love instead of romantic love.

She must notice, he thinks, she must notice the way it pains him having to look at her take on all the tasks that were Celica’s before; to watch her be more a mother than a sister to Laphicet just like Celica before her. She must notice.

But if she does so Velvet never lets it show. She’s smart and caring, sweet, always tries to be the best she can and do all she can to put a smile on her family’s face. She’s smart and she knows he’s hurting, so she tries her best despite how he, sometimes, can’t look at her.

It reminds him of Celica, she too always did her best to make him happy. And sometimes he can’t bear it.

* * *

He has been preparing for this day since The Opening. He leaded the quite, easy life of a peasant for long years, despite knowing he didn’t deserve it but having no other option but to wait.

He has been preparing for this night since the day he lost Celica and he recovered the entirety of character to take on his master’s ideals.

And despite all that, despite his careful crafting, it has come to this.

She’s lying on the ground, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, rolling in the dirt while she _burns_. Her big, golden eyes are a window to her soul and he sees, clearly, not only her despair: her big, golden eyes are a mirror too and they reflect his blank, impassive expression in the face of her suffering.

And for a moment is not Velvet the one that cries and begs and crawls desperately through the ground. It’s Celica, with her face a broken image while she fell at the darkness at this same shrine; for a moment is Celica the one imploring him to stop, the one that doesn’t recognize him.

But Celica is dead, he thinks looking at her, and so is the man she knew: And this before her is the savior of the world.

* * *

She has come, of course. As consumed by her anger, by her hate and by her sorrow as she’s fuel by all of it.

She has come, dragging others with her to help her in her quest for revenge, others that are as lost and broken as she is. How fitting companions she’s found.

Artorius returns her fierce gaze with a blank stare, understanding her motivations as much as he despises them.

Laphicet wanted her to be spare all this, all these emotions that have hurt her so much. But fate is a fickle thing, and fate deemed her compatible enough with Innominat’s power for her to become a therion and now she’s here, spewing curses and claiming his head, as if his dead would bring her any sort of peace.

He wants to kill her, he should’ve kill her the night of The Advent but he needs the malevolence in her heart, and what he wants, what he’s heart craves is unimportant.

He will kill her, one day not far from this, once he’s harvested her desperation but not before that. He will keep her alive as long as necessary, he will break her body and her spirit and he will stab her heart and twist the dagger. He will make her bleed and beg for mercy if that’s what it takes.

He ignored once her pleads, it won’t be hard do to so again.

And after that, after that he’ll kill her and set her free. Free of the human sentiments that have made her sink so low.

She fights with all the supernatural strength akin to monster, she fights using the techniques he taught her but she has twisted them with her emotion and that, he thinks, that’s why she fails.

That’s why his sword pierces through her like it did her brother, but she doesn’t fall to the dark unconsciousness of dead. Tainting the holy ground of the Throne with her tainted blood she gets up, demanding more healing from the boy.

She gets up, body broken and shattered soul; she rises, blood on her lips and fire in her eyes, like a wounded animal clinging to life: That’s all what she is now, so stray for the reason that separates man of beasts.

And still he sees her and sees Celica. Celica that didn’t know of reason when her family was at the stake, that would get up even if she was sick, that would smile even if she was in pain, that would rise and made the world brighter with her irrational optimism.

But where did that lead her, anyway.

It will lead Velvet to the same fate, if not today.

* * *

He shows her the face of her beloved brother in the body of an ancient god and predictable so, she falls to the ghost that haunts her, kneels before the face of her brother and breaks even more than she already is at the truth of Laphicet’s dead.

For a moment Artorius thinks: it’s over. For a moment he thinks it’s all over and that he will be able to liberate her of the weight of her sins.

But like weeds in a field she persists. She’s dragged out of her self-loathing by those that accompany her, they mend her wounds as well as they can and her desperation fades, as snow in the morning.

How pitiful, he thinks, how pitiful and ignorant of them, they have only doom her to more suffering, they’re just delaying her downfall.  

Because he will succeed.

* * *

She has traveled the world, she’s seen its worst and its best and in her quest of vengeance she has, somehow, found herself.

Hatred still consumes her, but now it’s cold and tempered. Hatred is not all that has taken her here, at this place beyond the clouds, looking for him.

Birds fly because they want to fly, she says with unwavering conviction and he knows it will be impossible to take desperation from her. She’s beyond that now, she’s more of what she was before, she’s stronger and her will rivals his.

She fights with the supernatural strength of a monster, with the techniques he taught her but she has enhance them with passion, with resolve and with the answers she’s found. She doesn’t yield despite her wounds, she doesn’t back down at the odds, and she keeps pushing forward as her sister taught her so.

In an ironic twist of fate, what allows him to fight in pair with her are his own, painful emotions, the ones that he’s been carrying since the day Celica died and he feeds them to Innominat.

Still she fights and, he realizes, she fights like she does because she does it not only for herself, her selfish wishes are not the only thing in her hear while she combats him. But he can’t lose, since he fights for the world.

She proves him wrong.

“Arthur’s forgotten maxim!” She screams.

Arthur, he thinks, he hasn’t hear that name in a very long time.

“Never despair…!” She takes Innominat out his body, she rips off his sword “…no matter what!”

He knows the words, of course, told to him by his master, told to her by Arthur. He knows the words and they stab him in the heart even more than his own sword.

 “Spoken…like a true hero” Artorius says, and he doesn’t know if he does so in acknowledgment or in disdain.

Because he’s supposed to save the world, after all. He’s supposed to right wrongs, he’s supposed to carry on his master’s ideals, he’s supposed to be better than this, he’s supposed to be the hero and he…

He looks at her and thinks of Celica: the same raven hair, the same fair skin, the big, golden eyes. But the image vanishes quickly and there’s only Velvet Crowe, the Lord of Calamity, the girl he taught how to hunt and how to fight, the young woman that kept him going after his wife had die, there’s only her…his sister, and Artorius doesn’t know what to think of it, of Celica’s ghost finally abandoning them both.

And he knows Velvet’s revenge is for her brother, for him and only him, but while she looks at Artorius with the same soft eyes and talks with the same gentle voice of many years ago, while she _comforts_ him and assures him she knows he would have fight for her and Laphi too, he hopes earnestly that her revenge is for him as well, for Arthur.

“I…I wanted to save everyone.”

He wanted to save the world, he wanted to erase all the pain and the suffering and the love that begets it, he wanted to cure humanity of its faults, give them a clean, peaceful world, he wanted to start a new.

He wanted to save the world. He wanted to save his sister. Maybe he even wanted to save himself.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so tired you guys, you have no idea, when i got this idea i fell in love with it and i couldn't stop writing, i wanted it to be...idk, something more if you may, but it took me fucking centuries to write it and, tbh, i'm not really satisfy with how this came out, but i'm tired and i'm sick of looking at this and i feel that if i keep messing with it, it will only get worse, so here it is
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading every comment will be appreciate! <3


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